


Covered in Blue

by TheFirstDayOfSpring



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 16:26:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11809779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFirstDayOfSpring/pseuds/TheFirstDayOfSpring
Summary: Missing Shoot scenes. These basically fit into canon if you want them to





	Covered in Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi :) The first one takes place in 3x20, right after Root rolls up on her sexy bike to sweep Shaw away
> 
> Warnings for some mild recreational drug use and some sex, nothing too graphic tho

“We’re gonna steal a jet,” Root says, and that’s really all Shaw needs to hear to be convinced. She has no idea who they’re about to deal with, how much of a threat they’re facing, or how long they’ll be gone for. All Shaw knows is that Root seems to know what she’s doing most of the time, and whatever is going on in Alaska that requires a stolen jet is probably exciting enough to keep Shaw satisfied.

  


The jet is located on some privately owned airfield in New Jersey. It takes them less than an hour to get there on Root’s bike – which Shaw had never seen her riding before, but was a pleasant surprise, to say the least. Shaw quickly figures out that Root’s way of “stealing” things is pretending that they already belong to her, and pulling up the right credentials from somewhere to prove it. The guard at the gate just lets them through after Root hands him some papers and an ID.

  


“Do you even know how to fly this thing?” Shaw asks when they’re standing under the nose of the jet. Some guys that just seemed to have turned up out of nowhere are preparing it for takeoff, and two of them are rolling a staircase towards the side door of the plane.

  


“I don’t need to,” Root says. “I have the best autopilot there is.”

  


Shaw swallows. She knows that, technically, her life has been in the hands of the machine for a couple of years now, but this seems a little too direct. There’s a reason they still leave people in charge of airplanes, and it’s probably a good one too.

  


“Relax, sweetie,” Root says, leaning down a little to meet Shaw’s eyes. “We got this.” She puts her hand on Shaw’s back in an attempt to comfort her, but Shaw quickly steps aside and rolls her eyes. Root ignores it and makes her way over to the staircase to thank the boys that put it there.

  


The flight itself leaves nothing to complain about. The plane’s interior is so fancy it makes Shaw grin. There are only four seats in the main cabin, and they all recline far enough to be considered decent beds. There’s a cooler in the front, holding a bottle of champagne and lots of water bottles. Shaw is happier with the bottle of scotch she finds in the cabinet next to it, though. When she sits down with her drink to enjoy the view down below, she feels her nerves calm a little. Not that she’s scared of flying, it’s just that not having a human being for a pilot made her a little tense before.

  


“Are you a member of the mile high club yet?” Root asks after a while. She’d sat down across from a Shaw the second she picked the seat, but up until now she had been sufferable.

  


Shaw is about to roll her eyes and continue ignoring Root, but then she changes her mind. “I am, actually.”

  


“Really?” Root says, her grin widening.

  


“Yeah. And honestly, I don’t get what all the fuss is about.”

  


“Sounds like someone didn’t get served right,” Root hums over the rim of her champagne glass.

 

“He did just fine,” Shaw clarifies. “But I can think of more comfortable places to get laid.”

 

Root’s eyes skim around the cabin, and Shaw doesn’t even need to look at her to know what she’s thinking. Of course the last time Shaw had sex on an aircraft, it had been in the lavatory of a 200 passenger Boeing, crammed together on about one square foot and dealing with angry knocks of fellow passengers, none which would be an issue on this luxury jet, but she’s not about to give up so easily. Her last and only time with Root had been pleasant, to say the least, but Shaw doesn’t do encores.

 

Root doesn’t try to push her luck any further. She shoots Shaw a couple more glances, but doesn’t say anything, which decreases her annoyingness by 90%.

 

“So who’s the number, anyway?” Shaw asks after a long, pleasant silence.

 

“Jack Harding, he’s a jurist in the Alaskan state court.”

 

“What’s the threat?”

 

“She hasn’t told me yet.”

 

“Of course,” Shaw sighs. “I thought you two were a lot more cuddly now that she’s up in your ear twenty-four seven..”

 

“We’ve become a bit more… intimate, yes.”

 

Shaw lets out an “ugh” as she rolls her eyes.

 

“But she still only tells me what she wants to.”

 

“And you’re cool with that?”

 

“Of course I am. I’m happy enough that she’s chosen me to do some of her bidding. Plus, I trust her, and-”

 

“Yeah yeah, so should I. I get it.” Shaw cuts her off.

 

The thing is, she actually does get it. There was a time when she was the one blindly trusting every one of the machine’s instructions without question. The only difference is that, at the time, she didn’t know it was a machine pulling the strings. Other than that, Shaw supposes she can’t judge Root’s loyalty to the machine any more than she can her own to the government up until a year ago. Although that didn’t end so well for her.

 

“How long till we land?” Shaw asks then.

 

“Three hours and 37 minutes.”

 

Shaw purses her lips and nods, slightly surprised. “That’s pretty fast.”

 

“What do you think we needed this exact jet for?” Root grins. “It’s the fastest model on this side of the Atlantic.”

 

“Impressive.”

 

“Only the best for my dates,” Root purrs.

 

Shaw gulps down her last bit of scotch and sighs, careful to avoid Root’s eyes. She has to admit messing around a little bit would be a good way to pass the time.

 

But she has rules. And despite the popular saying, hers are not made to be broken.

 

She looks around the room, fixed on finding something to distract them both.

 

“That thing come with any games?” she asks eventually, pointing at the big flat screen behind Root.

 

“There’s a PlayStation connected to it. Discs are in the cabinet.”

 

Shaw grins and gets up to start up the system. She hands Root a controller and announces, “I’m gonna beat your ass at Call of Duty.”

 

Root hums and gives her the most patronizing smile Shaw has ever seen on her. “No you’re not.”

 

“If you were thinking of using your all-seeing super AI to cheat, I would reconsider that real fast if I were you.” Shaw makes sure to sound as threatening as she can, but in a sexual way, so Root will take it seriously.

 

“Oh. Then by all means, beat my ass.”

  


 

* * *

  


  


“That’s the last one,” Root says as she walks past Shaw, who’s holding a big, greasy man by the collar of his hoodie, preparing to throw another punch to his jaw. The guy tries to make a grab for Root for some reason, but that only makes it easier for Shaw to grab his arm and pull him forward to jab her knee into his ribs. He leans over further in reflex and she grabs his neck, pressing into his pulse point hard, and he drops to the ground three seconds later.

 

Shaw looks up to find Root biting her lip and staring at her. The number is standing next to her, also staring at Shaw, but with a slightly more terrified expression.

 

“So now what?” Shaw asks, choosing to ignore the hot look in Root’s eyes. She looks over at the number in his crumpled expensive suit. He’s shaking on his legs and Shaw wouldn’t be surprised if he pissed himself while standing here.

 

“We take M. Harding home. She thinks there might be two more guys waiting inside his building. We’ll make sure the perimeter’s clear and then we can head back east.”

 

“Already?” Shaw asks.

 

“Did you wanna stay in this dump of a town any longer? She already has a new mission for us, sweetie. Let’s go.” They make their way out of the warehouse without any more trouble and navigate through the docks with the help of the machine. Harding’s car is still parked by the harbor gates, so they take that back into the city.

 

When they get to Harding’s building, they indeed find two more militia members, one waiting in the lobby and the other in the hallway of his floor. Root tases the first one without flinching and Shaw beats up the second with just a few punches to the face and throat.

 

Harding thanks them for their help and even tries to pay them with cash from his wallet. Root seems so offended by that that Shaw just starts walking away from them, to distract her and stop her from making a scene of it. It works, because Root follows her shortly after.

 

They secure the three blocks surrounding the building, but the machine tells Root there are no members left for them to fight. Harding will be safe for the time being, and the militia group will be detained by the Anchorage PD shortly.

 

Root reveals Hardings’ car keys from her jacket pocket when they’re done. Shaw grins at her.

 

“It would have been rude to have taken his money when he’s already paid his debt,” Root says innocently.

 

Shaw has a lot of fun racing the sleek black Jaguar back to the field where they left the jet. She runs a few red lights, but they’re sure Harding can handle a few fines missing from his bank account.

 

“So where to next?” Shaw asks, when they’ve dumped the car a block away from the jet.

 

“Miami, Florida. I figure she thinks we deserve a little fun in the sun after leaving us to freeze in this hell hole.”

 

“Nice,” Shaw says. “I could use a break from all the snow we’ve been seeing.”

  


 

* * *

  


  


Violence always gives Shaw a rush, a little tingle that keeps coursing through her veins for an hour or so, and then it usually dies down again. But Root hasn’t stopped eying her up with that hungry look of hers, and it seems to add a little heat to her usual post-fight rush.

 

The machine informed Root that their next mission wouldn’t be until the next morning, so they don’t bother taking it slow with the drinks on the plane. They play some more Call of Duty, and Root has gotten slightly less terrible at it since their first round this morning, but she's still no match for Shaw. After about three rounds, Root has lost enough of her dignity to give up.

 

“Let’s play something _I’m_ good at now,” she says.

 

“Like what? Getting shot in the shoulder?” Shaw snorts at her own joke. Root pouts at her.

 

“You of all people should know my list of skills goes far beyond just that.”

 

“I’m not playing chess or some other nerd game with you.”

 

“I’m sure we can think of something we’ll both enjoy,” Root says, with that low voice and stupid smirk across her face.

 

Shaw diverts her eyes. It’s easier to not get annoyed or feel anything if you don’t look at the source of the annoyance. She needs to find something to keep Root busy before she can no longer resist the urge to punch her in the face. Or something.

 

“Have you considered taking this thing for a spin yourself?” she says then, gesturing at the front of the plane.

 

“Not really, to be honest,” Root says.

 

“Wanna try?” Shaw asks, the grin on her face growing. It’s been a while since she was inside the cockpit of a plane, but she’ll probably remember some tricks when she sees the buttons. Besides, with Root’s robot friend telling her what to do every second, it doesn’t seem like much could go wrong.

 

Root seems more amused with Shaw’s face than her suggestion, but she doesn’t think long before she sets her glass of champagne aside and says, “alright,” while she gets out of her seat. Shaw jumps up to follow her, suddenly rushed with a new type of excitement.

 

The view from the cockpit is amazing. They can hardly see the land below, but there are barely any clouds in sight and all that’s around them is the warm blue sky.

 

It takes the machine some more convincing to let them play around with the controls, but after safety measures are ensured, she lets them have at it for a while. Shaw feels kind of like a kid on a rollercoaster, and she can’t help but huff little sounds of mischievous joy every time the plane noticeably moves one way or another by her doing.

 

Root on the other hand actually looks like she knows what she’s doing and doesn’t grin much more than she usually does – which is still a lot. Shaw gets a little bit carried away staring at her as she confidently moves her hands over the panel of buttons and switches like she does this every day. She’ll even admit it’s kind of hot.

 

  


* * *

  


 

They land the plane together, although Shaw is pretty sure the machine is doing all the work and they’re just lip syncing along, but it’s still fun. As soon as they’re standing completely still on the concrete of what looks more like an abandoned race track than an airfield, Shaw raises her hand to high five her co-pilot. Root doesn’t miss a beat and Shaw immediately rolls her eyes at how lame that was, but the excitement of flying a plane is still fresh enough not to care about it.

 

They make their way to downtown Miami in another borrowed car. Root lets Shaw pick a restaurant to eat at, and having a little free time in a city where she doesn’t have to worry about her nose freezing off is definitely not the worst thing. And she figures Root isn’t the worst person to spend it with, either.

 

Shaw scrunches her nose in disgust when Root orders a salad at the expensive burger place she picked.

 

“Really?” she asks.

 

“Not everyone includes meat in their diet, Sameen,” Root says, with an obnoxious wink. Shaw would roll her eyes, but it’s not enough to express how lame that was. Instead, she just sighs and shakes her head at Root in disbelief. Root cracks her victory smirk and starts playing with her hair by her shoulder.

 

They’re still wearing the clothes they left New York with this morning, and it feels a little off in a restaurant like this, but Shaw decides it’s better this way. It would be dumb if they’d gotten all dressed up. People might think they’re on a date. That’s not what this is.

 

Shaw wants to ask about the sleeping arrangements the machine has planned for them, but she gets distracted when the waiter brings over her massive beef burger. She starts devouring it like she hasn’t eaten in weeks, which might as well be true because they only stopped for food once today, and the Anchorage street food didn’t exactly leave her with a content stomach.

 

When the burger is gone, Shaw sits back and her attention shifts to Root’s hand, toying with the stem of her wine glass. There’s something about her long fingers running over the glass smoothly that keeps her gaze locked on it. It’s probably the alcohol buzzing through her veins.

 

“Good burger?” Root asks.

 

“Yeah,” Shaw says. She blinks and looks up at Root.

 

“We can walk to the hotel from here. Unless there’s something else you wanna do. While in Miami, and all.”

 

“Like what?” Shaw says, slightly curious with what Root will come up with.

 

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Skinny dipping the Atlantic?”

 

“That’s the best you can do?” Shaw snorts.

 

Root shrugs. “I wouldn’t mind heading straight to the hotel. There’s a roof terrace that closes for guests 30 minutes from now. I figured we could do a little innocent breaking and entering to kill some time.”

 

“Sounds good to me.”

 

  


* * *

  


 

The hotel is a lot fancier than anything the government ever had her stay in back in the ISA. There’s a fountain in the lobby and even the elevators are covered in marble. To Shaw’s surprise, Root has gotten them separate rooms, each with a king-sized bed, a minibar, and a bathroom bigger than Shaw’s first apartment. Big windows give a perfect view of the sun setting over the city, and it takes Shaw a while to peel away from them to head for the shower.

 

With her hair still wet, she meets up with Root in the hallway. She’s wearing a pair of sweatpants and a tank top that she found in the suitcase that was waiting for her in the room when she got there. Root, on the other hand, is dressed in a short silk bathrobe, and Shaw doubts there is much underneath it. She doesn’t know why she’s surprised. She’s holding two water bottles by the lids in one hand, and the other is hidden in her pocket.

 

“Is that your usual minor felony-committing attire?”

 

“You should see my major felony garments,” Root says, attempting another wink.

 

Shaw rolls her eyes. “So now what?”

 

“Now we enjoy one of the many benefits of private air travel.” She pulls her hand out of her pocket and Shaw protectively glances around the hall, but all she’s holding is a little white piece of rolled up paper. “Smuggling your own contraband.”

 

“You brought pot?” Shaw raises her eyebrows.

 

“Don’t tell Harold. I wouldn’t want him to think I’m a bad influence on you.”

 

“You _are_ a bad influence on me,” Shaw argues.

 

“True, but he doesn’t need to know the details. Come on.” Root turns around and Shaw follows her to the end of the hall. They take the elevator to the top floor, where Root types a code into a keypad, which opens a door to a staircase. Shaw manages to break the lock on the next door with some brute force, and then they’re outside.

 

From the roof, they can see the ocean and most of the city, and the moon’s reflection on the water and the windows. They walk up to the edge, looking down on the streets and enjoying the fresh air, just warm enough to be pleasant on their exposed skin.

 

Root gets bored first, and retreats to the middle of the terrace. There’s a patch of fake grass, for decorative purposes, and Shaw watches her as she gracefully sits down on it with her legs crossed. Shaw favors a spot on one of the hard wooden sunbeds.

 

Root takes the blunt and a lighter from her pocket. She sets it between her lips and lights up with surprising ease. She breathes in the smoke casually and tilts her head back slightly as she takes the blunt from her lips between her fingers. Shaw doesn’t realize she’s staring until Root stares right back at her.

 

“Come here,” she says. She lets out the smoke with an effortless blow.

 

Shaw sits on the grass next to Root, who passes her the blunt.

 

“God, I haven’t done this in a while,” she says.

 

“Do you remember how?” Root smirks.

 

“Yeah, I remember how, Root. It’s not rocket science.” She rolls her eyes and lifts the blunt to her lips. She starts coughing after a single hit.

 

“You know coughing only gets you higher, right?” Root laughs.

 

“Good, then I have to smoke less of this crap,” Shaw murmurs between two coughs. She scrunches her nose at the taste of the smoke, but takes another hit as soon as she’s done couching. The stars hit her brain faster than she anticipated, and she hands the blunt back to Root when her head starts spinning. Root makes a trade with one of the water bottles, and Shaw gratefully accepts it, gulping down half of it in two seconds.

 

“You were quite the pothead in high school, weren’t you?” Shaw asks once her throat feels sort of okay and cooled down. She smirks as she watches Root take another smooth hit.

 

“Please, I was barely in high school at all,” Root says. “Didn’t start with the weed until after though. Scored one of my first jobs in the business.” She lets herself fall backwards until she’s lying down on the grass completely. “Let me guess. You were too cool to fall in with the bad crowd?”

 

“I had my sports. Didn’t wanna risk any health issues.”

 

“That’s cute,” Root says.

 

“Not much cuter than scrawny 18 year old you dealing drugs to thugs thrice your size.” Shaw actually lets out a giggle as she visualizes it.

 

“Hmm,” Root laughs. “I was taller than some of them.”

 

They pass the blunt back and forth a couple more times. Shaw lies down next to Root in an attempt to stop her head from spinning, but it doesn’t help much. From what she remembers, she knows it’ll pass soon enough.

 

“Shotgun?” Root asks, holding up the last bit of the blunt so Shaw can see it’s almost at its end.

 

“Sure,” she says, without really thinking about it. Root has already gotten her this far with their juvenile shenanigans, they might as well finish it off now.

 

Root leans over towards her, and Shaw laughs at the look on her face. She actually feels her own eyes being as heavy as Root’s look, but it’s still funny. Root ignores the mockery and takes the last hit, holding the smoke in her mouth while she leans in further and flicks the blunt away over her shoulder. Shaw lifts her head a little so Root can reach her. She parts her lips to let the smoke in.

 

Root is so close that her nose is touching Shaw’s cheek. Shaw almost forgets to inhale when Root blows the smoke over her lips. Root’s lips are almost touching hers, but she keeps hovering above her, less than half an inch away.

 

The smoke fades away between them, but Root keeps lingering there, slowly coming down. Shaw breathes sharply when their lips brush together, barely enough to really feel it. It’s just a tickle, but neither of them takes it further than that. Root moves her face so their mouths are definitely touching, but they’re still not exactly kissing. Just teasing. Root is daring Shaw to do something about it.

 

Shaw has rules, but she’s not really sure what they say about kissing. And she doesn’t know what kissing would lead to at this point. Most of all, she doesn’t want to give Root the satisfaction of giving in. Either Root kisses her or they don’t kiss at all. But they can’t just lie here forever.

 

She reaches for Root’s shoulder and pushes her off. Enough of that. She lies back on the grass and avoids looking at Root’s face. It’ll either look smug or pouty, and neither is something Shaw can handle right now.

 

Root settles back down too, and she lets out a breathy chuckle. Shaw can just sense she’s about to catch the stoner giggles. Shaw starts planning out ways to shut her up. But instead of violence or threats, her mind keeps leading her back to her own lips on Root’s. Although, she reasons, it would be the most effective way.

 

She looks up in search for distraction. The stars are a lot brighter here than they are in New York. They’re actually visible. Shaw has been in New York for so long, she can hardly remember the last time she saw this many stars. It’s nowhere near as spectacular as the desert night sky, but it’ll do.

 

“What’s your zodiac sign?” she blurts out.

 

“Why,” Root asks. “Are you questioning our compatibility?”

 

“No,” Shaw huffs. “I wanna see if I can find it in the stars.”

 

“You actually know the signs?” Root asks, sounding slightly surprised.

 

“Test me.” Shaw grins. It’s the nerdiest party trick she knows, but reading the stars was the best way to kill time during night patrol back in the marines, and once you learn it, it’s kind of hard to forget.

 

“Alright. I’m an Aries,” Root says, humoring her. Shaw can’t tell if she just made that up or if it’s actually her sign. She doesn’t have a reason to lie, but Shaw has noticed before that Root doesn’t really enjoy sharing personal details.

 

Regardless, Shaw starts searching the sky for the brightest stars in Root’s supposed constellation. She finds it pretty quickly and points it out to Root, who scrambles a little closer to her. She doesn’t see it for the longest time, and Shaw is beginning to suspect she’s not even trying to see it when Root’s shoulder bumps against her own.

 

“How on earth is that supposed to look like a goat?” Root finally asks.

 

“It’s a ram,” Shaw corrects her. “But I have no idea.”

 

“You could have just pointed any four stars out and I would believe you,” Root says, snorting.

 

“Maybe I did,” Shaw says.

 

“Trying to impress me, Shaw?” Root’s face is close, and Shaw can feel her eyes on her face. The stupid weed is making her grin like a bigger idiot than Root.

 

“I don’t need to do anything in particular to impress _you_ ,” Shaw argues.

 

Root just laughs in response. Honestly, she isn’t that easy to impress. She didn’t seem too impressed when she tased Shaw and tied her to a chair about a year ago. She didn’t as much as bat an eye when Shaw threw a guy four times her weight to the floor in the CIA safehouse a couple of months ago. But judging from the way she pressed her against the wall a few minutes later, lips crashing and hands clawing at each other, Shaw would say Root was quite in awe of her actions. She just had her own way of showing it.

 

The memory makes her breathe a little faster. An involuntary shiver courses through her muscles. She turns her head towards Root, and it feels light and fuzzy enough to make her laugh. But then she notices how close Root’s face is, and her focus shifts from Root’s eyes to her lips and she’s too close. So she turns her face the other way, enjoying the sensation of the world spinning heavily around her head.

 

“Are you okay?” Root giggles. Shaw realizes she has been shaking her head slowly for probably two minutes when she remembers Root is right there with her. She’s suddenly very much aware of Root’s arm pressed up against her own. It feels… funny. She laughs.

 

“We’re,” Shaw starts. “High.”

 

“No shit, Shaggy,” Root says.

 

“No I mean,” she waves her hand to motion at the space around them. “We’re like, what? Three hundred feet off the ground?”

 

“Four hundred twenty six and a half,” Root specifies.

 

“Yeah. That’s pretty high.”

 

“You know what’s even higher?”

 

“Mars,” Shaw blurts out.

 

“Well,” Root says. “Can’t argue with that rock solid logic.”

 

“Would you live there? If you could? With an oxygen mask I guess.” Shaw squints up, as if maybe if she tries hard enough, she’ll be able to see Mars from here.

 

“On Mars? You can’t. There’s just about zero gravity on there.”

 

Shaw moves her head again. She figures this is probably what it feels like to float in space. It’s pretty awesome.

 

“Gravity’s overrated. But consider this,” she says, lifting her finger up. “No people.” Her hand brushes against Root’s when she lets it fall back between them. Root’s fingers twitch, but nothing happens.

 

“Huh,” Root croons. “That’s an excellent point. Okay, then I would, but only if you come with me.”

 

“Me?” Shaw asks. “But I’m people. That kind of defeats the purpose.”

 

“But you’re fun people. I’d get bored without you.” Root rolls on her side and props up on her elbow. Something in Shaw’s head reminds her that the combination of the words Root just said and the way she’s staring down at her now should feel heavy and uncomfortable. But it doesn’t.

 

“I’m only in if Bear can come too,” she negotiates.

 

“Sure,” Root says, cracking a smile that looks smaller than Root’s usual smiles. Shaw notices her glancing at her lips. And her neck. And quite possibly her breasts, which are fairly covered by her top, but probably perfectly outlined in the tight fabric.

 

“But do they make space masks for dogs?” Shaw wonders.

 

“Laika was a dog. And she was in space.”

 

“But Laika died,” Shaw says, scrunching up her nose.

 

“Wait really?” Root’s attention has suddenly returned fully to the conversation. She’s pouting, but it actually looks genuine this time. It’s kind of funny.

 

“What, did you think a dog would just survive being launched into space for a couple of days?”

 

“No… I just never really thought about it.” Root sighs. “God, people are assholes.”

 

“I know,” Shaw says. Root’s eyes are no longer focused on her. She’s staring at a piece of fake grass between them. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to bring up a dead dog to a stoned person with full emoting capability.

 

Shaw props herself onto her elbows too, leveling her face with Root’s. She doesn’t really know what she’s doing until she’s already doing it, and Root’s eyes widen. It only takes her a second to recover and she starts kissing Shaw back. She cracks a smile that’s too big for her to really put effort into the kiss, but maybe that was Shaw’s intention.

 

Root lifts her hand to Shaw’s neck and cups her jaw. Her smile begins to falter, and the kiss turns more serious. There’s more heat behind their lips, and Shaw can no longer tell if her head is feeling light from intoxication or from Root’s persistent kiss.

 

If she’s honest, she’s been thinking about her no-encore rule since they got back on the plane in Anchorage. A rule is a rule, and there’s a reason Shaw has quite a number of them. She has been living by them since she was young, and they’ve been what has kept her on the right track when her own instincts might have led her off it. This rule in particular has stopped a lot of messy situations from happening. It’s a good rule because it works, everybody involved has a good time, nobody gets attached to anybody else, and life goes on as it was after the deed is done.

 

But now that her mouth is properly back on Root’s, it just feels like she’s being too hard on herself. Her body has been on edge from beating up the militia guys all day, and between that and Root’s constant glances and innuendos, it gradually became harder and harder to think of a reason why a second time with her would be such a bad idea. There’s obviously a strong mutual attraction between them, and the night in the safehouse has been on Shaw’s mind a lot more than she would like to admit. With months of regularly being near each other almost unavoidably, they can only dance around it for so long. It’s not like Root is gonna show up at her door with a bouquet of roses and a profound declaration of love if they just go at it one more time.

 

Shaw puts her hand on Root’s hip, sliding down over the silk of her robe until she touches the skin of her thigh. Root breathes sharply when Shaw grips the back of her thigh and pulls her closer. Root twists so she can slip her other arm around Shaw’s neck, pulling her down with her. Shaw catches on and throws her leg over Root’s.

 

Root doesn’t waste time slipping her hands under the elastic of Shaw’s sweatpants to grope her ass. Shaw grins and retaliates by slipping her free hand over the robe and onto Root’s breast. She feels the outline of Root’s bra under the fabric. Root breaks off the kiss and leans up to Shaw’s neck, planting her teeth in a tendon without much warning, and Shaw groans hard in response.

 

Everything they learned about each other’s bodies that night in the safehouse seems to come back to them as they go. Shaw remembers exactly what spot on Root’s stomach to brush against to make her squirm, and Root knows just how hard to scratch Shaw’s back to make her that much more feral.

 

Root arches her back and moves her hands to Shaw’s hips, grabbing some skin with the fabric of her suddenly irritating sweatpants and starts pulling down.

 

“Hm,” Shaw hums, biting Root’s lip hard enough to make her pull back for a moment, but she keeps grinding her body into Shaw’s. “We have a bed, you know. Two, even.”  

 

Root pants, and she stills her hands in Shaw’s sweats. “You’re no fun,” she says, with a dark grin.

 

“That’s not what your hips are telling me,” Shaw says, pushing herself up so she’s straddling Root, pinning her down enough that she stops moving. “Come on.” She grabs Root’s wrists to pull her up with her and they make their way back inside, without paying the view or the stars much more attention. They have more important matters to attend to.

 

Root makes it without touching Shaw until they get inside the elevator. She cups Shaw’s face with both hands and kisses her roughly. Shaw plays along for a second or two, but then she pushes her off, slamming her into the elevator wall a little harder than intended. But Root only seems more enthused by it, and even laughs a little after she moans. Her head is leaning against the wall and Shaw can’t reach her lips without standing on her toes. Which would be stupid, so she just goes for the next best thing instead. She attacks Root’s neck with eager lips and teeth.

 

They barely stop in time for the elevator doors to open for two drunk business men two floors above their own. Shaw immediately lets go of Root’s neck and waist, steps away and straightens her back, along with her face.

 

“Evening,” she blurts awkwardly. She tries to look as serious and unfazed as possible when guys steps in beside them, but Root can’t contain her stupid giggles. Shaw ignores her for a good three seconds, but when she side-eyes the men, who seem slightly confused with the relations of their current company, she slaps her hand in front of her face and snorts loudly.

 

When the elevator dings for their floor, Root turns to the men with her usual patronizing smile and says, “Have a wonderful evening, gentlemen.”

 

“Thanks. You too, ladies.”

 

“Oh, I’m sure we will,” Root says, and she honestly tries to wink at the guys, which looks even more stupid than it might have if her eyes weren’t already half shut from the pot.

 

Shaw grabs her by the wrist and pulls her out of the elevator. She doesn’t even want to see the looks on their faces when the doors close behind them. She just drags Root, who’s still giggling like an idiot, to the first room they have a key to, which happens to be Root’s. Root fiddles in the pocket of her robe with hasty fingers and opens the door, almost tripping over her own feet to get inside.

 

The room looks pretty much identical to Shaw’s, so she doesn’t waste much time taking in her surroundings. Root is standing a couple of feet away from her, staring her down with that huntress look in her eyes. Shaw waits for a moment, just to see what she’ll do. But instead of stepping towards Shaw, Root lifts her hands up to the ribbon of her robe, slowly pulling on it while she bites her lip and keeps her eyes trained on Shaw’s.

 

Shaw lets out a heavy breath when Root slips the robe over her shoulder, just enough to expose her stomach and her ridiculously expensive looking lingerie. It’s dark red satin covered in black lace, and for some reason it instantly makes Shaw’s jaw drop. She suddenly can’t wait another second to get her hands on Root’s skin.

 

She steps up to her in three quick strides and slips her fingers on Root’s waist, the warmth of her soft skin sending a shiver through her gut. She works her other hand up to Root’s shoulder to get rid of the useless robe entirely. Root captures Shaw’s mouth again while she’s busy getting her hands all over her skin.

 

In Root’s first attempt to pull Shaw’s sweatpants down, she pushes her into the side table against the wall hard enough for the little vase on top of it to topple over and splatter water everywhere. Shaw has to hold on to the edge of the table to keep herself standing up while Root get rid of her pants, and makes out with her stomach in the process. It doesn’t take long before her hand has found its way between Shaw’s legs, moving a bit too gently against the fabric of her boxers.

 

Shaw might have the patience for this if she didn’t know what was coming, but she’s played this game with Root before, and she knows she isn’t gonna get what she wants this easily. Root’s gonna string her out until her knees can barely hold her up anymore, but she’s not gonna let her get over the edge until she feels like it. So this feels nice, but Shaw isn’t gonna let Root have it her way tonight.

 

She shoves Root off, and pulls her top over her head, making Root’s jaw drop slightly, which is enough to count as a small victory on Shaw’s side. She doesn’t let Root shamelessly stare at her breasts for too long, but grabs her by the wrists and pushes her towards the bed. They fall on it with their hands clutched together.

 

They roll around for a good while, just touching, teasing, pushing and pulling at each other, leaving scratches and bitemarks on each other’s skin. Last time they did this, Root was the biggest tease, but she was intent on showing Shaw that she could trust her. She granted her most of the controls and let her sort out the dynamics for herself. But now that they’re more familiar, Root isn’t playing so nice anymore, and despite her thin and lanky body, Shaw has a lot more trouble keeping her in place than she would have expected.

 

It feels a lot like a good fight to Shaw, a fair and friendly sort of fight. She doesn’t really know what they’re fighting about or what would count as winning or losing, but Root makes it pretty clear that she’s the winner when she settles herself over Shaw’s mouth with a devilish grin and a mean hand tangling in Shaw’s hair to pull her closer. It’s really not the worst way to lose.

 

She’ll show Root a proper rematch.

 

  


* * *

  


 

Root sighs happily when they lay back on the pillows. There’s about a foot of space and sheets between them, which is exactly how Shaw prefers it. She stares at the ceiling, relishing in the sated feeling that spreads across her entire body. Her muscles feel warm and relaxed. She rolls her head to look at Root.

 

For what feels like the first time tonight, she isn’t blatantly staring at Shaw. She’s staring at the ceiling too, probably also enjoying the soft tingle in her lower stomach. She doesn’t pay Shaw any mind. It feels strange, like she’s ignoring her. That’s probably how Root feels when Shaw just lets her stare without giving a reaction.

 

Not that it matters. It’s the perfect opportunity to really look at Root. No grins, no walls, not even any clothes. Just Root and her sharp features, her light skin, soft wavy hair. There’s an elegance to her, with everything she does, that makes Shaw a little shifty. In battle, Root is like a force of nature, not much unlike a machine of her own. She’s strong and fast, relentless in her maneuver, but she never loses that graceful touch. Shaw thinks maybe that’s what makes her most intimidating.

 

But even just lying here, in this exposed and vulnerable state of post-coital bliss, she looks invincible.

 

Shaw sits up and rolls over and, not really knowing why, straddles Root’s hips.

 

“Really? More?” Root asks, finally looking at Shaw.

 

Shaw shrugs. She wasn’t exactly going for another round, but she’s not sure what to call whatever this is either.

 

She puts her hands on Root’s ribs, softly. Her skin is warm and nice, and Shaw slowly moves her fingers over it.

 

Root squirms a little bit, but then takes a deep breath and relaxes into the touch.

 

Shaw’s hands glide over her sides, to her hips. Her eyes follow them, taking in as much of Root’s body as they can. She slides over her curves, plays with her boobs for a moment before moving over her chest, to her left shoulder, where she softly pokes the scar that she put there herself about a year ago.

 

“Admiring your handiwork?” Root says. Shaw looks from the scar to Root’s face. She looks a little dopey, with a soft smile on her lips, and her somewhat tired eyes shining.

 

“Was a good shot,” Shaw says. The scar is right on the edge of her clavicle. Shaw’s bullet was only meant to disarm her without causing too much damage. Since the scar is all that’s left, she figures she did an alright job.

 

Root looks away, clearly uncomfortable talking about that day. She puts her own hands on Shaw’s thighs, simply resting them there, just to be in touch.

 

Shaw considers leaning down to kiss her again, but that just seems like too much. Instead, she takes Root’s hands in her own and slides them off of herself. She gets up and walks to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

 

Root heads into the bathroom when Shaw comes out. She looks from the bed to the door, and back. She’s pretty tired, and although her own room is only a few feet down the hall, it just seems like too much effort getting into her clothes for that. It’s not like either of them is paying for these rooms anyway.

 

She slips under the covers still naked and waits for Root to come back out and say something about it. But Root doesn’t say anything, just turns off the lights and gets in on the other side of the bed.

 

“Night,” Shaw says, suppressing a yawn.

 

“Good night, Shaw.”

 

Shaw lies with her back turned to Root, not closing her eyes yet. The mattress dips every time Root moves, and it reminds Shaw of how long it’s been since she shared a bed with someone. For sleeping, that is. She doesn’t really know how she feels about it, but Root’s steady breathing soothes her as she falls asleep.

 

  


* * *

  


 

The sun rises early, and since no one bothered to close the curtains last night, the brightness wakes Shaw up at 5:09. She groans and rolls over, bumping into Root’s pointy elbow. It startles her, and she opens her eyes quickly to identify the possible threat.

 

Root is still asleep, her head resting on her hand and the pillow. Her face looks peaceful, with the hint of a smirk on her slightly pursed lips.

 

Shaw looks around the unfamiliar room, as last night’s events come back to her. She curses herself for falling into Root’s game, tagging along with her like she wasn’t the enemy just a couple of months ago. It was pretty naïve, and very unprofessional, to let Root drug her up, even willingly. And even more so to sleep with her afterwards.

 

She rolls her eyes and flares her nostrils at Root. Not that she can see it, but maybe it’s more for Shaw’s own account.

 

She gets up, careful not to stir Root. She’s not really looking forward to morning after babble. She gathers her clothes from last night and makes her way back to her own room. Root didn’t leave her any indication of what time they have to get to work, so she decides she’ll go for a quick jog around downtown Miami. She doesn’t exactly come here often, the weather is nice, and since they’re probably not gonna have much time for sightseeing today, she might as well enjoy the city for a bit while Root catches up with her sleep.

 

When she runs by a bakery for some breakfast, she contemplates bringing some fresh pastries and coffee back to the hotel for Root, but decides against it when she realizes how stupid that is. That’s what people do when they want to be nice to the person they slept with. That’s obviously not the case here.

 

She returns to the hotel empty handed about an hour later, jumping into the shower before Root inevitably comes by to tell her they have to leave.

 

There’s a knock on her door 40 minutes later. She opens up in her clean tank top and black jeans with her hair still wet, and a high cut bomber jacket slung over her shoulder.

 

“Wanna go get breakfast before we hunt down a group of amateur weapon smugglers?” Root asks, her low and seductive. She’s leaning in the doorframe with an arm on her hip, checking Shaw out the least subtle way she knows how.

 

Shaw smirks at the question. How could she forget how tempting Root’s offers can be?

 

“I want pancakes,” Shaw states, pushing past Root and closing the door behind her. If she needs any of the stuff she left inside, the machine will make sure it reaches New York safely before she’ll know it.

 

“Didn’t you have pancakes yesterday?” Root catches up with her and walks by her side to the elevators.

 

“They’re different everywhere you go,” Shaw defends. She doesn’t add that she has a bit of an ongoing side mission to life – to find out if the pancakes at Flagship really are the best on earth, or if she’s missing out on even better ones somewhere else.

 

“Alright. She knows a place.”

 

  


* * *

  


 

The pancakes are not as good as Flagship’s, but they’re alright. She’s not hungry enough to devour them with her usual passion, but Root is still enjoying the show. She has her hands clasped tightly around a big mug of coffee herself, despite the temperature outside being a lot higher than what they’ve been used to.

 

“Is this the kind of stuff you always do?” Shaw asks her. “When you’re away?”

 

“I usually leave the beating up of armed men twice my size up to the authorities,” Root starts, shrugging. “Or I just shoot them. Depending on her wishes.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“There’s usually a bit more computer work involved. And some breaking and entering every now and then.” Shaw looks at her with interest, slowly chewing her food. “The company is hardly ever this good, though.”

 

Shaw swallows and looks down at her plate, playing with her fork. “I wouldn’t mind doing this more often.”

 

Root grins and raises her eyebrows at her.

 

“Beating up guys, I mean,” Shaw clarifies with a hint of feigned annoyance and a glare. “Just… if you ever need help…” She leaves out the ‘I’m your girl’ part, knowing that Root would enjoy that a little too much.

 

“I appreciate that,” Root says. “Really. But I’m not the one calling the shots. She needs you there, especially with the storm we’ve got coming up.”

 

“It’s gonna be pretty bad, huh?” Shaw busies herself with her next bite before Root answers.

 

“We still have a chance to set it right. But no matter how it turns out, she’ll do her best to keep us safe.”

 

Shaw nods slowly. She’s used to not getting many details from Root, but she ends up being right most of the time anyway, so she can deal with it.

 

“So… Amateur weapon smugglers?” she asks curiously.

 

“Yep. Explosives, even. These guys went from shipping coke to shipping dynamite without a change of tactics. They’re gonna end up blowing up the entire port of Miami if we don’t stop them today.”

 

“Sounds fun,” Shaw says.

 

“I knew you were just the girl for the job,” Root says with a smirk.

 

  


* * *

  


 

They spend the rest of the morning tracking down the smugglers and bluejacking their phones. The machine informs them that the ship arrived earlier this morning, but the crew won’t board until later in the afternoon. They have about five hours to stop them, but they need to wait till they’re all in the same place.

 

When they have found the fourth crew member, they discover that they’re all headed to the same bar at around 3:30pm.

 

Root has an undercover plan for when they go in. Shaw’s eyes almost roll out of her skull when Root explains it, but she figures it will work alright.

 

They’ll walk into the place at 3:55, acting like a pair of tipsy tourists in need of another drink. She emphasizes that their new alter egos will need to appear straight and interested to mingle, so the men will be as distracted as possible from their actual intentions. Shaw has a feeling Root will have a lot more trouble with that aspect of the plan than she will, but whatever. She’ll make sure they get it over with quick.

 

The men look around in surprise when they walk in, Root giggling and Shaw somewhat awkwardly attempting to play along with her act. They obviously don’t see a lot of tourists in this part of town, especially not the giggly middle aged singles type. Shaw scans the guys, who surely think she’s checking them out, already planning out where to begin punching. They smile back at them after their confusion has subsided.

 

“Good afternoon, ladies,” the ugliest one with the pony tail says from his bar stool. According to the other guys’ contacts, that must be Sonny, the boss.

 

Shaw almost rolls her eyes at how stupid men can be. They’re supposed to be leaving with a ship filled with dynamite in less than thirty minutes, yet here they are greeting two random women like they might have a chance with them at some point in the future. Though, Shaw has to admit, the women in question are hot enough to be worth a shot at any occasion.

 

“Hello gentlemen,” Root replies in the most chipper way. She continues, in the general direction of the bar, “Hook us up with your finest drink, bartender!” She’s really making it hard for Shaw not to visibly cringe.

 

They sit down at the bar and Shaw counts down all of the three seconds it takes for the Sonny to come over to them. Root does the talking, since he seems to be the most interested in her anyway, and it gives Shaw a little more time to figure out how to win this two against five, including the bartender, who places their obnoxiously girly drinks on the bar in front of them while Shaw is checking him for possible weak spots. They don’t really have an opportunity to discuss tactics anymore, so Root is just gonna have to roll with her whenever she’s ready.

 

Shaw hasn’t really been listening to the conversation, but she sees Root tensing up when the guy touches her leg. It’s been long enough.

 

Shaw gets up and punches Sonny in the throat too fast for the other guys to grasp what’s going on. She grabs him by his pony tail when he bends over to cough, and smashes his face into the bar. She hears the sound of Root’s taser behind her and a body dropping to the floor. The bartender is yelling that he’s about to call the cops, so Shaw abandons her guy and his bleeding, possibly broken nose momentarily to smoothly slide over the bar and kick the bartender in the gut in the same movement. Another guy has made it behind the bar, probably reaching for a gun somewhere, but Shaw punches him in the face and knees him between the legs simultaneously, and then he’s down too. She turns around to find Root looking satisfied from the guys on the floor to Shaw. Then she walks back to their stupid drinks and sits down like nothing happened.

 

Shaw follows her, giving Sonny an extra blow to the head just because she can, and then sits down too. Root hums happily, taking a sip of the drink. Shaw pulls a face at it. Couldn’t Root have just asked for bourbon or something? Whatever. She takes a sip through her straw and is surprised that it actually tastes kind of… nice.

 

Root thanks her for coming along on this trip. Shaw assumes that means it’s about to come to an end, but with Root, you never really know until she says so. She tries to pry some more information out of her, about her work for the machine and what’s coming, but Root keeps her answers short and vague, and the machine interrupts her just when things are about to get interesting.

 

She get up from her stool and says it’s time to go, and Shaw follows her, retrieving her jacket from the back of her stool and pulling it on. Root says she’s going to Saint Louis next, and for a moment Shaw thinks that means she’s coming with. But Root leaves without her, abandoning her in a bar with five knocked out men, and not even a hint of where she is supposed to be headed to next.

 

For a second, Shaw thinks about following her anyway, but that idea leaves her brain as fast as it came. Still, it feels a little off, to be standing there alone, after all the hours they just spent together. Oh well. She got what she asked for. Time to move on.

 

She says one last goodbye to Sonny, and then her phone buzzes as soon as she leaves the bar. There’s an address and some sort of code in a text. Looks like she’s headed to DC after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as usual to my loyal beta [Emilia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/youmeandem/pseuds/youmeandem)
> 
> Work title from Homesick by Dua Lipa, chapter title from Heaven in Hiding by Halsey :)
> 
> Thanks for reading, plsssss leave a comment and i will love you forever


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